“Fucking shit, fuck! SHIT!” I’m up on my feet, jerking the shower curtain, half falling out of the tub. I throw my arm across the countertop, sending everything flying. I hear a crash a half second before I realize I’m throwing things. I can’t stop. Something shatters—aftershave—and I’m crouching down on my knees, one palm pressed against the bathroom floor. Everything’s blurring together.
